


cosy and cold

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 22:18:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16962519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: “I think Ephrim wants a throne but they don’t have the resources for one right now.”Fero builds Ephrim a throne.





	cosy and cold

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to maddie, for their speedy betaing
> 
> title from 1234 by feist

It was strange being at the University. In a lot of ways, living outside its walls reminded Fero of when he’d first run from Rosemerrow, not so much having to learn to live on his own but more like having to learn to live without reaching for others, or avoiding them.

 

It wasn’t as though anyone had seemed particularly glad to see him, or particularly sad to see him go, except, perhaps, Ephrim. Fero’s arms tingled with remaining warmth, sometimes, when he thought of Ephrim’s hug in greeting, how he’d lifted Fero’s into the air in his excitement. When his mind wandered back to that moment, Fero did his best to shake the thought off, to try and return to the calm remove of the mountains that he’d found in himself when he’d left Rosemerrow.

 

That being said, Fero still did try to reach out, sometimes. He helped with hunting parties and gathered supplies for the town and a few for himself. Not food, obviously, but sometimes he’d come across a strangely-shaped piece of wood or stone, and he’d take that home with him too, piling it in the corner of his tent.

 

He wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, only that he wanted to make  _ something _ . Something that  _ mattered _ .

 

He made a few small things, mostly toys, and dropped them off at the school. Rosana hadn’t tried to stop him, and if she was okay with it, Fero figured that it was probably okay to keep doing.

 

Fero stopped by the mess hall on his way out. Just because he didn’t need to eat didn’t mean that it wasn’t nice to have a warm drink of something once in a while. Red Jack nodded to him as he entered, waving him over.

 

“Fero!” said Red Jack, grinning down at him, “I did not expect to see you in here so soon!”

 

From anyone else it would have seemed like an admonition, but Red Jack’s tone was entirely too warm for that. Fero grinned back up at him.

 

“Seems like the happening place to be,” said Fero, waving a hand at the few scattered people.

 

Red Jack laughed. “Tell me, what have you been up to since I last saw you? It has been months!”

 

Fero’s eyes wandered as he talked. The room looked different, and it took Fero a few moments to figure out why - at the end of the hall, where that had once been nothing but the plain canvas tent wall, were two chairs - one fashioned from what looked like part of a caravan and an old saddle, imposing in it’s height. The other was a small wooden stool that looked as though it had been taken from one of the dormitories. The only thing really distinguishing it from the other seats in the mess hall was the worn velvet cushion someone had placed on it.

 

“Hey,” said Fero, interrupting his own story, “What’s with that?”

 

“What? Oh,” said Red Jack, following Fero’s gesture towards the chair, “I suppose you would not have heard - Corsica and Ephrim have begun taking council here.”

 

Fero wrinkled his nose. “What does  _ that _ mean?”

 

“People come and ask them questions,” said Red Jack, “mostly it is Ephrim. He has been doing as good a job as could be done with things here.”

 

“That chair doesn’t look very comfortable,” said Fero, eyeing the wagon construction.

 

“No,” said Red Jack. “Someone brought him a cushion but I do not think it has really helped, not for as long as he usually speaks to people.”

 

“Huh,” said Fero, his eyes sliding to the small stool, “I thought…”

 

Red Jack smiled. “Yes, he does seem that way. And, between you and me, I think he would prefer one, but he cannot seem to make himself push for the use of resources.”

 

Red Jack moved on, telling Fero a tall-sounding tale about Throndir coaching Blue Jay to shoot and arrow that reached the top of the University’s towers. Fero nodded along, and thought of the pile of stone and wood, tucked in the corner of his small tent.

 

He wouldn’t go out of his way or anything. But  _ maybe _ , if he had time. Since he already had most of the resources.

 

And  _ maybe _ the next few times he went with a hunting or gathering party he picked up a few more things than he would have normally, or mentally marked a thing or two to go back and pick up later. It was easy. He had the time to do it, and it gave him something to focus on during the days when he could find someone who would let him help out. Not every hunting party liked having him tag along, after all.

 

Ephrim usually let him.

 

“So I heard you’re like, the king of the University now,” said Fero, once they’d gone a little way into the forest.

 

Ephrim made a face, not looking away from where he was scanning the treeline. “Lord. And I wouldn’t put it like  _ that _ . People just look to me for… I don’t know. Advice. Leadership. I haven’t been  _ crowned _ .”

 

Fero’s eyes flicked to Ephrim’s face, the way the moonlight coming through the trees caught on his high cheekbones.

 

“I don’t think you need to be,” said Fero. “I mean, kings are kind of bullshit.”

 

Ephrim huffed a laugh, tension going out of his shoulders. “Yeah.” He looked at Fero out of the corner of his eye. “I didn’t think you cared much about the University political structure.”

 

“I don’t,” said Fero.

 

“Then why say anything at all?”

 

“Because it seems like your throne’s too small,” said Fero.

 

Ephrim let out a loud laugh. “I guess it is. But I’ll make do, I suppose.”

 

“Pretty self-sacrificing for a king.”

 

“ _ Lord _ ,” said Ephrim, “and the thro- the chair works just fine. Having a fancy place to sit isn’t exactly high on my list of priorities, and it probably won’t be for a while.”

 

“Yeah,” said Fero, tilting his head to one side, “I guess not.”

 

After Fero had helped Ephrim bring back more of the peat moss, he went back into the forest. They’d passed an old beehive on the way, and the wax would be good to smooth out the wood or whatever it was he was making. He didn’t have anything specific in mind, he told himself, as he coiled an old vine around his arm, picturing the way it would fit with the other things he’d collected. Nothing specific in mind at all.

 

Just messing around really, he told himself, and he carefully ground the edges of the glittering mountain stone to a polish. Just doing something to keep his hands busy, he said to himself as he carved leaves of the medicinal plants into the back of the chair, carefully rubbing beeswax into the wood. Just because it was the end of the world, didn’t mean he couldn’t have hobbies.

 

Eventually, he had to take the parts outside to fit them together, which meant he actually had to think about what he was doing. How the polished stone base of the chair was just the right height for Ephrim - the high, carved back of the chair almost curving protectively over the seat.

 

Fero frowned at the throne. The throne just sat there, continuing to exist as a thing he’d made. Fero’s frown deepened and he let out a groan of frustration.

 

“Fine!” he said to the throne, “You win! But I still say this is just a hobby!”

 

The throne said nothing, although Fero found its argument of continuing to be a throne annoyingly compelling.

 

It took a while to lug it into the mess hall - even the downhill slope only helped Fero so much. He was glad that it was still early enough in the morning that most people still weren’t awake by the time he pushed it next to Corsica’s.

 

Fero looked up at it for a moment. Then he took the faded velvet cushion from the stool, and put it on the throne.

 

He sat down on the stool, leaning his back against the curved stone arm of the throne, looking up at the carvings above. Fero closed his eyes, feeling the tiredness in his muscles from the effort of moving the throne to where it belonged.

 

“What the  _ hell _ \- Fero?”

 

Fero’s eyes snapped open. The world seemed a little lighter, maybe because it was closer to morning, or maybe because of the lantern Ephrim held up, mouth open in surprise as he looked from the carved arch of the chair to Fero, scrolls of parchment slipping from his arm.

 

“Uh... ta da,” said Fero, voice still scratchy from sleep.

 

“This is… this is… did  _ you _ do this?”

 

“Well, you said you wanted one.”

 

“No I didn’t.”

 

“Yeah, okay,” said Fero, waving a hand, “maybe you didn’t  _ say _ that, but you  _ did _ want one. And it’s not like I wasted any  _ resources _ . No one was using any of this stuff. And even if they were, it’s not like having one less branch in a fire is  _ really _ gonna matter  _ that _ much, and-”

 

Ephrim stepped closer, and Fero’s voice stuttered to a stop. Ephrim stepped even closer, running a careful finger along the winding vine carved into the wood.

 

“It’s beautiful,” said Ephrim softly. “You really made this?”

 

“Yes,” snapped Fero, “I told you I made all my own furniture.”

 

“This isn’t furniture,” said Ephrim, “This is art.” He looked down at Fero. “I… thank you.”

 

Fero shrugged, ignoring the warmth in his cheeks. “It was nothing.”

 

“No, it wasn’t,” said Ephrim. He put his gloved hand on Fero’s shoulder. “I… This year has been very difficult. And last year too, and- Well. It’s been hard, and I’m… I’m glad you’re here Fero.”

 

Fero gave him a lopsided grin. “I think that’s the first time anyone’s said that to me since I got here.” He paused. “Except for when I first got here, I guess.”

 

“When you first-oh.” Ephrim’s cheeks looked flushed in the lamplight. “Yeah, I guess… it was good to know there were other survivors out there and it was also- it was good to see you. It  _ is  _ good to see you. I wish you’d come by more, actually.”

 

“I’m  _ not _ moving back to the university.”

 

“Not that, I mean… I wish you’d  _ visit _ ,” said Ephrim, “outside of hunting, I mean.”

 

Fero blinked. “Oh, I thought… y’know. I didn’t know if I was allowed back in to just, like, hang out.”

 

Ephrim crouched down, his face level with Fero’s. “Why wouldn’t you be?”

 

Fero shrugged, not meeting Ephrim’s gaze. “I don’t live here anymore.”

 

“But we still-  _ I  _ still- care about you,” said Ephrim, “you can visit here as often as you’d like.”

 

Fero bit his lip. “What if there’s a long time when I don’t want to come in for ages? Or what if I want to come in every day?”

 

“Then I would love to see you every day,” said Ephrim.

 

He squeezed Fero’s shoulder. His hand was warm on Fero, a comforting weight.

 

“Okay,” said Fero, “Okay, maybe I’ll think about it.”

 

Ephrim smiled. “Good.”

 

The hand that rested on Fero’s shoulder ghosted up his neck and trailed through his hair as Ephrim stood back up. Fero hoped his inhale of breath wasn’t too audible.

 

“Now,” said Ephrim, “since we’re already here, let’s see if we can find something for breakfast.”

 

“I don’t need any,” said Fero. He paused. “But I can stay, if you want the company.”

 

“I’d like that,” said Ephrim.

 

They sat close together in the quiet of the early morning, the circle of Ephrim’s lamp just reaching the throne behind them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


End file.
